


Angel and devil with that jet black stare

by CoinToYourWitcher



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, All song fics all the time, Angst, Atheism, Bishop Briggs, Breaking shit, Church Sex, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Echos, F/M, Light a candle, Loss of Virginity, Probably don't read this if you are religious, Put on your headphones, Put the kids to bed, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Rough Sex, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Stephen - Freeform, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Using communion wine as lube, enjoy, lots of cussing, sacreligious sex, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23278384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoinToYourWitcher/pseuds/CoinToYourWitcher
Summary: “It’s nothing, I just thought, when you asked me to stay with you,” Ben said, his eyes tracing the coffee table.“You thought what?” Rey stated, feigning indignance.“It’s just, maybe the way you looked at me in high school,” Ben said, licking his lips, his tone knowing, still not meeting her eye line.“How did I look at you in high school?” Rey asked skeptically, but feeling like the game was up.His eyes shot up, “Like you wanted to fuck me raw and write about it in your diary.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 57
Kudos: 250
Collections: Reylo Moodboard Inspiration





	1. Play me like a violin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zrofyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zrofyre/gifts).



> Story inspired by:
> 
> **Sometimes I run my fingers through his hair  
>  Think of the crazy shit that's under there  
> Angel and devil and that jet black stare  
> Yeah, yeah, I like him like that  
> My baby's got a fucked up head  
> Doesn't matter 'cause he's so damn good in bed**
> 
> Baby by Bishop Briggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **She said, hey boy, hey boy  
>  I like your style  
> I'll let you play me for a while  
> Play me 'till the sun rises  
> Play me like a violin**  
>    
> Play me like a violin by Stephen
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/26ZcXKCwGXIpwm105WbTUz?si=HQFe11flTqy1HRl6JXsi0A)

[ ](https://ibb.co/bb45jpQ)

The parking space was a tight fit, but she was slim. Adjusting her skirt, Rey squeezed between the car next to hers, opening the door to get her violin out of the backseat. 

Navigating the gravel in heels, she climbed the steps of the Victorian house and let herself in. There were about thirty people, she estimated, all wandering the house, still in their black funeral attire.

In the kitchen there was finger food, but the majority of people had already started taking their seats in the living room.

When Leia, her former music teacher, had asked her to play for her husband’s wake, Rey was hesitant for a couple reasons: she’d never performed in a setting like that, and Ben would undoubtedly be there. 

In high school, six years ago, Ben Solo was a Senior when she was a Freshman. Despite his big ears and slightly bow-legged walk, he was tall and handsome, with a casual intensity rarely seen outside of a dark music video. He was the type of kid that actually drank and had sex in high school, unlike her friend group--the marching band kids--who kept it straight edge. Not intentionally, but because they were losers. 

She had only ever had one fleeting exchange with him.

Staying behind after class to talk to Leia, he had come in, waiting on her conversation to finish so he could talk to his mother. Clutching her sheet music to her chest, she had walked by him at the door, feeling like a little mouse skirting around a black tomcat as he monitored her with a lazy gaze.

Walking down the hall, he’d come after her. Apparently in her nerves she had forgotten her violin and he handed the case off to her dutifully. She ran to the girls bathroom to replay the scene in front of the mirror, hoping that she looked hot that day in her short, white, floral dress. To her surprise, he _did_ seem to recognize her in the halls for the rest of the year. His eyes would leave whatever conversation he was having just to follow her. 

Googling him the day before the wake, Rey found his LinkedIn profile. Apparently, he had moved to Brooklyn four years ago, now managing a concert venue called Rough Trade NYC. She knew he’d left Virginia, but New York was so far.

Leia’s brother, the pastor, said a few words, but kept it short, having gone in depth already at the grave site.

Rey looked around the room. Still no sign of Ben. Perhaps the rumors were true. He and his family had fallen out. 

Leia’s brother tapped the trackpad on the laptop, starting a slideshow that projected images of Leia’s husband’s life onto the wall. Leia spread out the top of the music stand, nodding for Rey to play her song.

Rey stood, leafing through her music until she found The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams and laid it out.

It seemed silly to be the one performing a song, when Leia was so talented on the piano, but as Rey tucked her chin and lifted her bow, she saw how Leia trembled with grief in her seat. She would give him a steady-handed tribute where his loving wife could not. She poured herself into the song, closing her eyes, the sheet music redundant when she had it memorized.

Hearing a commotion, she opened her eyes, and almost paused in her playing, but muscle memory saved her. 

Ben had stumbled down the stairs into the room to watch, clearly intoxicated, but even more attractive than she remembered as he ran one big hand through his pitch black hair. He leaned his head back against the wall, his adams apple protruding, taking deep open-mouthed breaths in lieu of crying as his eyes flicked back and forth between her and the images. The audience shot him curious looks, but trained their focus forward.

She forced herself to close her eyes and finish the song, giving a polite nod to their applause. 

As people began mingling again, she stalked Ben to the empty parlor where he sat in a formal, uncomfortable-looking, antique chair, lighting a cigarette. The effect was that of a scene straight off an album cover, with his undone tie sloppily scarfed around his neck, the sleeves of his black button-up rolled to reveal his tattoos, and his legs manspreading as he leaned back in the chair. 

Staying in the hall, she watched as his uncle the pastor sat down, quietly chastising him for his state of inebriation, how he refused to bow his head in prayer at the funeral, remarking on how he was smoking in the house, then said, “You may not have shown your father respect while he was alive, but I expect you to show him respect in death.”

Rey’s eyebrows raised as she watched Ben lean forward, extinguishing his cigarette on the wood of the coffee table.

Her mouth opened in shock.

“If there was a god, he wouldn’t have killed my dad before we’d apologized to each other,” he said, standing up and walking out the front door, leaving it wide open. At first, she worried he was going to drive, but he turned, making for the porch swing.

Rey went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes and made her way out to the porch, her heart racing. 

Ben was laying on his back, puffing his way through another cigarette, but sat up when she held out the glass of water. He took it expertly with the same hand holding the cigarette.

“Thanks,” he said, watching her lean on the railing, “Did my mom send you out here to sober me up?”

“No, I think she’s sending people home with leftovers,” Rey said, having just seen her in the kitchen.

“You look familiar,” he said, before chugging the water down to the ice cubes.

“Yeah, I think we went to Salem High School together,” Rey said, as if she wasn’t sure.

“I think we did,” he said, his eyes traveling from her feet up her legs. 

She had worn black tights, but she suddenly felt like she had forgotten to wear her clothes that day.

“Your mom was my music teacher, now I’m a tutor,” Rey continued.

“You’re really good,” he complimented her, running his hand through his hair, staring at the painted wood between his feet. He looked for a moment like he might throw up.

“Are-” Rey started, but he cut her off.

“I can’t stay here. I’m going to go get a hotel. Sorry, what were you going to say?” he asked, setting the glass down at his feet.

“I was going to ask if you were feeling unwell,” Rey said, holding her skirt down as a gust of wind hit them.

She tried not to smile with pleasure at his interested glance.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, swallowing.

“I know we don’t know each other, really, at all, but if you want, I have a guest room you could stay in,” Rey offered, feeling a surge of courage.

She searched her own motives and found them wanting. She knew she was attempting to take advantage of Ben in this situation, his vulnerability, not to mention his insobriety, but it felt like a once in a lifetime chance.

His eyebrows knitted as he glanced up at her, surprised by the suggestion.

Inside, they could hear his uncle asking someone to close the front door.

“Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ben said shortly, standing up, tucking his cigarettes in his shirt pocket.


	2. Another way to heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I wish you would've slept in the guest room  
>  'Cause maybe I'd still feel alive without you  
> I'm pretty sure that all of this was my fault  
> I'm the one who kissed you first and took my clothes off  
> You know how to make me feel all alone  
> But when I'm underneath your teeth it feels just like home  
> You said that we shouldn't make love and just fucking  
> Find another way to heal**   
> 
> 
> Guest Room by Echos

Rey smiled as she waved goodbye to her new pupil, a ten-year-old boy with violently red hair. His mother waited for him at the door of her apartment as he grabbed his backpack and guitar case. 

“Can I use your bathroom first?” he asked, incorrectly assuming her bedroom was the facility he needed.

“No!” Rey said, too loudly, holding her hand out. 

He and his mother looked at her wide-eyed before she explained, “Sorry, sweetie, that’s my bedroom. Bathroom is next to the kitchen.”

After they left, Rey let the door to her room swing open. Exhaling loudly at the devastation before her, she turned and reached next to the fridge for the broom.

\--------------------

“It’s fine, I’ll sleep in this, get my shit from the house in the morning,” Ben was saying as she unlocked the door.

“I’ll drive you back tomorrow. I accidentally left my violin,” she laughed. 

Forgetfulness was not like her at all. She was completely blindsided by him.

He looked around, choosing a spot on her couch and watching as she unbuckled her strappy heels by the door.

“Sorry, should I take my shoes off?” he asked.

“No, you’re fine, my feet just hurt,” Rey confided. 

Her hands were shaking from adrenaline, meanwhile Ben looked like he was ready for a nap.

“I have Cokes, um, Capri Suns--for the students, you know--and water,” Rey said, looking through the fridge. “Are you hungry at all?”

“I will take a water. No, not hungry,” she heard him say, sounding more sober than before.

After a calming breath, Rey brought two waters into the living room, handing him the fuller one. 

Sitting on the arm of the chair across from him, Rey pointed over her shoulder, “That’s the guest bedroom, if you’re tired.”

Ben scoffed, smirking down at his glass.

“What?” Rey smiled. 

He set his glass on the coffee table, rubbing his eyes with two fingers.

“Did I say something funny?” Rey asked, feeling left out of the joke.

“It’s nothing, I just thought, when you asked me to stay with you,” Ben said, his eyes tracing the coffee table.

“You thought what?” Rey stated, feigning indignance. 

“It’s just, maybe the way you looked at me in high school,” Ben said, licking his lips, his tone knowing, still not meeting her eye line.

“How did I look at you in high school?” Rey asked skeptically, but feeling like the game was up.

His eyes shot up, “Like you wanted to fuck me raw and write about it in your diary.”

“Oh my god,” Rey said, standing, walking around the chair as if to shield herself from his bluntness.

“If I’m wrong, you can throw me out,” Ben said, sounding drunk again. 

Rey deflected, “It sounds like some kind of unhealthy coping mechanism, Ben. And you’re taking it out on me.”

He stood, looking like he was about to yell at her, but then covered his mouth with one hand, releasing it to say, “I am fucked up, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Rey exhaled, sitting back down on the arm of the chair.

Ben paced in front of her kitchen counter, reminding her of a lion trapped in a zoo.

“I’m grateful, I’m sorry. Thank you for letting me stay here. I fucking hate my uncle,” he said, running his hand through his hair as he moved.

She was probably making that fuck-him-raw-face from high school as she watched him, but he didn’t notice.

“Fuck, it’s just the whole concept of religion--sorry if you’re a Christian--but it’s the whole reason my dad and I fell out. You know morality has nothing to do with the belief in the supernatural. I fucking hated living in the Bible Belt growing up. Half my friends were suicidal gays because of it and half the people at church were just pretending they bought that shit anyway,” he ranted.

Rey nodded, on the same page with him on the topic. 

He looked like he was about to punch a hole in her drywall. 

“Come here,” she said, walking into her bedroom. 

He followed her, curiously.

Turning around, she handed him a large Yankee Candle she had burned down to the bottom of the wick.

“Smash it,” she said, “You look like you need to.”

He blinked at her for a moment, then threw it at her bedroom fireplace like a baseball. They smiled at each other as glass and bits of wax exploded all over the wood floor.

Rey handed him her half full water glass, “Don’t stop now.”

Ben threw it to the ground, at the foot of her bed, the shards sliding against the far wall, his smile even bigger this time. 

Rey looked down, aware that she was barefoot in a minefield. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she mentally asked him to save her.

Still in his shoes, he stepped towards her, slowly. The room was dead silent apart from the crunch under his Oxfords. His shoulders rose and fell from the thrill of destroying something.

She reached for him as he simultaneously grabbed her ass and found her lips, raising her legs to straddle him as he walked her to the bed. 

Pretense over, Rey opened her mouth, wanting as much of his tongue in her mouth as possible, her hands in his hair, cognizant that he had put his hands under her skirt to lift her. He laid her on the bed, still attached to her as he kicked his shoes off.

Rey arched her back to pull her dress off over her head, kissing him as soon as she was free. Her fingers attempted to unbutton his shirt, but he leaned back, ripping it off himself, buttons flying, working it over his arms, and tugging his white undershirt off by the tag, mussing his hair. 

His tattoos were more extensive than she had guessed, completely covering his left arm and shoulder. She watched the muscles tense as he tore her tights off as if they had wronged him in another life.

He unthreaded his belt, but her heart started pounding when he didn’t immediately fling that to the floor as well. 

“You’re not going to hit me with that,” Rey warned him as he came at her with it in hand.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, instead wrapping it around her waist just below her ribcage, poking it hard with the prong to create a Rey’s-circumference-sized hole. He put one hand on the belt to test it’s tightness. 

She wasn’t sure what the purpose of the belt was, until he grabbed it and yanked her into a sitting position, kissing her again as he popped her bra snap with one hand. 

Instinctively, Rey’s arms shot up to cover her breasts. 

Ben froze, leaning back, “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Rey said, blushing.

“I didn’t know. That. You were a virgin,” he said, flicking his hair out of his face. 

He looked like he had just found out she was underage. Or a nun.

Rey wanted to lower her arms and pretend she was fine being naked in front of a man, but she felt her lip tremble in shame.

“Does that...change things?” Rey asked, letting him know it wasn’t an issue on her end.

Ben sat up on his knees, “It means I can’t fuck you the way I was going to,” he laughed dryly. 

“Why not?” Rey asked, her eyes on his abs, ready to grant all of his wishes. Like a slutty genie.

“Because that’s not how you fuck a virgin,” he said, his deep voice and bluntness making her squirm with want.

She’d have to sound brave if she wanted him to take her now.

“Well, you’ve broken my other shit, I don’t see why my hymen should be a problem,” she said, grabbing him by the pants and relinquishing her grip on her breasts.

She managed to get his fly down before his hands ripped hers away, flattening her arms on the bed above her head.

“You’re not ready for my dick,” he said in her ear, trailing his mouth down her collarbone, fitting most of her breast in his mouth as he sucked, continuing down to her panties. He separated the pink lace from her pelvis with his tongue, taking them in his teeth as he lifted her legs at the knees, pulling them off with his mouth about a foot, before ripping them off with his hands.

“What the fuck, you shaved? Did you plan all this?” he asked, giving her a wolfy grin as he lowered her legs back to the bed.

“I just don’t like body hair,” Rey admitted, fighting the urge to cover herself again.

“Well, lucky me,” Ben said, spreading her legs and diving headfirst into her pussy, wrapping his arms under her thighs to restrain her.

Rey let out a noise of surprise as his tongue moved in figure eights, bringing a new meaning to the word ‘infinity’. She grabbed his hair, trying with difficulty not to grind herself into his face.

He took a breath, “How are you this wet already? We haven’t done anything,” he said, rhetorically, bobbing back down, this time to find her entrance and travel slowly up her to her clit.

A little whine escaped before she could stop it. 

Removing a hand from her leg, Ben raised two fingers to her face, an unspoken instruction. Leaning forward, Rey deep-throated them, sucking on them in a promise of acts to come.

“I’m good and hard now,” he muttered, sliding those fingers into her.

Gasping in pain, Rey almost sat up.

“Sorry, shit, I wasn’t expecting you to be that tight,” he said, pulling his fingers out, “This is what I meant, I’ve only been with a virgin like one time and I’ve got like drunk strength right now.”

“It’s fine,” Rey said, the pain gone, “Don’t stop, please?”

He ran his hand through his hair, apparently indifferent to the fact that that was the hand with her spit and other wetness on it. His sexual aloofness was so arousing, Rey wanted to tie him to the bed before he realized he was better off finding someone with experience.

“How _are_ you a virgin, if you don’t mind my asking?” he said, looking down her body.

“Because I’m a total nerd, I don’t know if you missed that,” Rey laughed.

“You’re _not_ though. What are you, twenty? You must have turned a dozen guys away by now,” he said, confused.

Rey tried to think, “I don’t know, I don’t really hang out with guys, I just have a bunch of girlfriends and I never had the college experience.”

Done talking, Ben grabbed the belt, sliding her closer, “You’re about to fucking get it.”

He attacked her with his mouth again, delving in with his finger, slowly circling to loosen her up for his second finger. Curving his fingers, he dug them repeatedly into a sweet spot she didn’t even know she had. Her hips bucked as she ground into his hand. Lifting his head, he watched her, keeping his nose out of harm’s way as she moved. Holding her down by the belt, he fit a third finger in her, making her cry out. His face looked almost mad, his arm muscles working as he continued at a rough pace until her legs started shaking.

“Fucking come already,” he smiled, pulling her roughly further onto his fingers with the belt.

“Ah!” Rey cried into her shoulder, her nerves firing at all cylinders between her legs.

“Enough of this shit, you’re ready,” Ben declared, flipping her with the belt like a steering wheel and tugging her up onto all fours. 

Rey caught her breath, hearing him tearing a condom open with his teeth.

“I’m on the pill,” she said, “You know, the girl scout in me,” she added. _Always be prepared._

“I’m clean, you want me to go bareback? Although I don’t recommend you trust guys in general on this front,” Ben said, pulling his cock out. 

Rey looked over her shoulder, curious.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, balking at the size of him as he stroked himself.

He gave her that wolf-like grin again, familiar with this reaction from his partners.

Rey genuinely considered stopping, a shot of fearful adrenaline exploding in her chest.

“Just tell me if it hurts and we stop,” he said, spitting in his hand and lubricating himself. 

Closing her eyes, Rey felt him filling her and retreating, over and over until she cried out, something giving, inviting him all the way inside her.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping.

His cock was pressed against that sweet spot inside her and before she knew what she was doing, her body moved on him, begging for more. He grabbed the belt, pulling her back and forth over him at a punishing pace. 

“Ah!” she cried again, her legs shaking.

“Already? Jesus,” he said, feeling her come. 

Needing a break, Rey laid on her back. 

Ben threw her pillows to the floor, clearing the land, about to seed his sex acre.

“How many fucking pillows do you need? And who makes their bed every day?” he said, talking to himself.

Rey smiled, wishing they hadn’t smashed her water.

“Get the fuck over here, we’re not done,” he said, lifting her left leg over his shoulder and entering her again. After about ten pumps, Rey started to shake her head, her face hot. 

“What?” he asked, not stopping, “Use your words,” he thrust harder.

“Ah!” she cried, laughing this time as her stomach contracted involuntarily.

“Are you fucking serious? Are you faking these?” he asked, meaning her third orgasm.

He dropped her leg, giving her exposed ass a slap and flicking his head to get his hair free of his eyes. Rey closed her legs, still self conscious.

“Don’t do that, Rey,” he said, parting her legs, “You’re gorgeous everywhere.” 

Rey wanted to compliment him somehow so he’d know she thought he was a god, but all she could think to do was reciprocate. Sitting up, she took him in her mouth, her legs spread on either side of him. 

She felt him harden even more in her mouth. Grabbing her hand, he spat in it and put it on his dick, another wordless instruction. She stroked him while worshiping what she could fit in her mouth.

“You liar,” he said, his hands in his hair. “You’ve done this before.”

“Nope,” Rey said before continuing, sucking harder to see if that was better.

“Guh,” he muttered, clutching her shoulder to steady himself. After about a minute, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off.

“I’m not coming in your mouth your first time, I’m pretty sure that’s how lesbians are made,” he said, pushing her onto her back.

His hand tested her, his eyebrows raising.

“You liked that,” he observed.

“I feel sore,” Rey admitted with a smile. Her vagina, as well as leg muscles that were underused were talking right now.

“You’re telling me to hurry up,” he said. “Gladly.” 

Pulling her up by the belt, he slammed her into the bedroom wall, causing her lamp to fall off the nightstand to the floor. Ignoring it, Rey braced her hands on the wall, sticking her ass out for him.

She heard him spit and closed her eyes, praying to no god in particular that this wasn’t the end.


	3. Epilogue: Yeah he's fuckin' crazy but he's still my baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Angel and devil and that jet black stare  
>  Yeah, yeah, I like him like that  
> My baby's got a fucked up head  
> Doesn't matter 'cause he's so damn good in bed  
> Yeah he's still my baby  
> Yeah he's fuckin' crazy but he's still my baby**
> 
> Baby by Bishop Briggs

Rey glanced at her phone, pretending to check the time. 

Ginger boy strummed his child-sized guitar, hitting the wrong chords fifty percent of the time. 

Grinding her teeth, Rey let his mistakes slide, her heart not in the lesson today.

It had been a week since Rey had dropped Ben off at his mom’s. He hadn’t promised her anything, just wrote her number on his arm with a pen from her kitchen drawer.  _ That was a good sign, right? _

Rey resituated in her chair, still sore, proof that at least once in her life she was thoroughly fucked by a real live man.

The doorbell rang, Ginger’s Mom.

He put his little guitar away, then detoured to her bathroom again. His mom let herself in, putting a box in the front hall, evidently from her welcome mat. Ginger came out of the bathroom, tripping on it.

“You got a package,” his mom said, helping him up and taking his guitar.

“Thank you,” Rey said, excitedly, “I’ll see you next week, Hux.”

Waiting for them to shut the door, Rey tore open the box.

It looked almost like a care package. 

There was an envelope labeled GAS MONEY, a belt, a Capri Sun, a Yankee Candle, a diary, and a note that read simply, “Get that tight pussy to Brooklyn, you can teach little shits from anywhere. I want you here.” At the bottom was his address.

Standing, Rey smiled around at her apartment, biting her thumb. 

There probably wasn’t a god, but if there was one, she owed him big time.


	4. More Epilogue, you thirsty bitches: Play these little games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Fucked and drank all night  
>  Acted all alright  
> Had no need to fight  
> Tonight, tonight  
> Cast me far away  
> Play these little games**
> 
> Go Fuck Yourself by Two Feet

“It’s your turn to pick a spot. And it better be fucking good,” Ben smirked as they left the local bar, six drinks deep.

“Oh my gosh. We are _not_ doing that again. We were so wasted,” Rey said, remembering the day she arrived on Ben’s doorstep and he gave her a tour of his Brooklyn neighborhood.

He had taken her to his favorite haunt, the bar four blocks from the apartment, but, after a raunchy song activated their drunken libidos, they found the distance back to the apartment to be too great. 

Ben had pulled her into a private park, just big enough for the residents to walk their dogs, toss a frisbee, or get fucked blind over a bench in the dead of the night.

“We’re doing it. Either you pick a spot, or I’ll fuck you in the middle of the crosswalk during a red light,” Ben threatened. 

They were already a block closer to the apartment, but there was a crosswalk coming up, so Rey cast around wildly for a more decent alternative. 

Spotting a church with an open door policy, Rey took a deep breath and veered towards the side entrance.

“Yes, this is happening,” Ben laughed quietly, as they snuck up a few concrete steps and slipped inside.

The lights were off, but Ben flipped his lighter open, the wisp of a flame illuminating the room, the nave of the church, with one aisle splitting the pews, up to the front with a simple wooden pastor stand.

Next to the coat racks to their left were two poles with candles at the top, for the acolytes. 

“Let there be light,” Ben said, lighting one and wielding it like a torch through the room, searching--no doubt--for the most sacrilegious place to bang her.

Rey ran ahead of him, looking in the pastor’s stand for-, “Aha!” she smiled, holding up a bottle of communion wine.

Ben laughed at her audacity, using his candle to light the brand new candlesticks at the front of the room, shedding some mood lighting on their deviant mission. Blowing out his acolyte candle, he reached for the bottle, setting it down on the carpeted floor. 

Feeling his hands pulling her shirt upwards, Rey’s eyes widened. “Oh, are we _really_ doing this?” 

There was a big difference between coming up with a lark and _actually_ fucking in a church with a figure of Jesus hanging on the wall.

“Yes, Virgin Mary,” he teased, pulling her pants to her feet in one swift motion. 

Rey stood, still in her underwear, shaking her head in disbelief at the sheer nerve. 

“I’m not a virgin anymore,” she corrected him, picking up the bottle of wine to take a swig, nearly choking as his hand entered her suddenly from behind.

“You still feel like it to me,” he said in her ear, her panties in his fist as he pulled on them, working his other hand deeper. 

Her legs parted of their own volition, knocking her off balance, with nothing to grab to steady herself but the pastor’s stand. She leaned forward on it as he _dug_ into her and spread his fingers open and closed inside her.

“Holy fuck!” Rey cried, nearly dropping the wine. _That was new._

“Watch the language in the house of our Lord,” Ben said, bending her forward more and unzipping his pants. 

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his cock. 

“Ow!” Rey protested, unprepared as always for the width of him. 

They’d had sex almost three times a day for a month and _still_ her vagina felt like newb.

Ben grabbed the wine bottle out of her hand and _poured it over her ass_.

“The carpet, Ben!” Rey said, in shock.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Ben laughed, driving himself into her again, this time with less difficulty. His hands pulled her back and forth, the smacking sound of their flesh making them both giggle.

“This is so wrong...ugh. But it feels so good,” Rey laughed, the acoustics of the room muffling their voices.

“This is a place of worship, I can’t think of a more appropriate place to fuck you, in fact-,” Ben pulled out, laying her down on the carpet.

He rifled around in the stand, coming back with the tin of communion wafers.

“What, are you hungry?” Rey laughed, watching him take two out.

“Hold still please,” he instructed, pouring the communion wine over her chest and stomach and pointing to her bra. “Take this shit off.” 

“Wish you’d told me to take it off before you stained it!” Rey whined, unhooking it and sliding out of it, now only in her panties.

Ben gingerly placed a wafer over each of her nipples, grinning as he pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing!?” Rey said, seeing the flash go off.

“I’ve gotta send this to Pastor Luke,” he said.

“DO NOT SEND THAT TO YOUR UNCLE!” Rey cried, sitting up. _He was just crazy enough to do something like that._

“You’re right, I’ll wait till Sunday morning,” he laughed, dropping his phone. 

Ben's finger hooked the crotch of her panties and ripped them down her legs. "Alright stand up, we're going to reenact The Passion of The Christ."

They laughed quietly together, hushing when they heard footsteps coming down a staircase.

"Is someone there?" a man's voice asked.

They stared at each other for a moment, afraid to breathe.  
  
  
"Yes, it is I, Jesus, I'm back!" Ben shouted triumphantly.  
  


Punching him in the arm, Rey grabbed what clothes she could find as they raced, laughing hysterically, back down the aisle and through the side door.


End file.
